Prequel to A Study in Pink
by Starviking
Summary: So after watching the first couple of episodes, something grabbed my attention. Sherlock and Mycroft seem to be well off, so why does Sherlock need a flatmate? This is my suggestion why. Please be kind in your criticism.


CAST LIST:

Mycroft Holmes- Mark Gatiss

Athelney the butler- Jack May

Sherlock Holmes- Benedict Cumberbatch

* * *

PART 1

* * *

 **JUNE 13th 2010**

Resting in a comfortably plush chair in his study, and reading a well-worn edition of " _Les Enfants du capitaine Grant_ ", one simply _must_ read Verne in the original French, Mycroft Holmes allows himself to truly relax for the first time in five months.

After fifteen minutes of pleasant quiet, the study doors open and one of the three servants that compose of his household, Mycroft doesn't need more than that and they are the only people he trusts in his house, enters. In this case, it's the butler and overall housekeeper, Athelney.

"I apologize for interrupting, Sir, but your brother is approaching the gates and-"

"On foot or a taxi?"

"Taxi. And I am informed that he's wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday. Due to not bothering to go to sleep last night as he was working hard on some-"

"Yes, thank you." He mentally sighs to himself as he places a bookmark in his novel. Rising to his feet, he grabs his jacket and the glass of cognac he had on the side table. "I'll be waiting for him in my office."

"Yes, Sir. Shall I make an attempt to bar his way, or just let him in?"

"If he is as angry as I expect him to be, then try to stop him from 'interrupting' my important work. It will make him feel better to shove you about a bit, but don't take it personally."

"I haven't let it offend me before, Sir."

Mycroft allows a small smile to form.

Good old, steadfast Athelney.

All three servants are used to Sherlock and his moods. One of the reasons Mycroft hired them, besides being remarkably discreet, was the fact that they actually are fond of his little brother. And Sherlock isn't too horribly rude at them, which is downright affectionate for him.

[][][][][]

The office doors open wide and an incensed Sherlock Holmes all but stomps into the room.

Looking as immaculate as usual, Mycroft puts down a folder he was leafing thru and looks up. "Good evening, little brother. Is this about the Dynasty Trust?"

"I have texted, and called, and all but _demeaned_ myself to you, asking again and again, so why won't you let me access the money?!"

"You know the answer to that."

Sherlock paces back and forth, trying to stay calm. "That last year at university, I concede that I couldn't be trusted with it and that it was best you took legal control…"

Mycroft looks up from checking his phone messages. "Are you saying I was right?"

" _Shut up!_ That was then! I'm not that man anymore and I need the money now! I only have so much left in my _own_ bank account. It won't be long before it's completely empty and you bloody well know that!"

Mycroft puts the phone down and calmly watches Sherlock who keeps pacing about. "Our grandmother and great-uncle left us that money to be used intelligently and _not_ needlessly. _I_ have accomplished their stipulation. _You_ have yet to prove to my satisfaction that you will do the same."

Sherlock stops pacing and his quicksilver eyes grow cold as he stares daggers at his brother. "I have _EVERY_ intention of using the money intelligently, Mycroft! I have a job, a job that I was born for and I need the money to afford this flat that suits me perfectly!"

"You have a _consulting_ position with Inspector Lestrade and he doesn't pay you. I will concede that it was extremely magnanimous of him to give you this chance and to, unknowingly, assist me in looking after you-"

Sherlock slams his hands on Mycroft's desk, slightly jarring some of the items on it. "I DON'T _NEED_ LOOKING AFTER! I have been clean for more than a year, I have my website which will get me _paying_ clients, I am working hard _on my own_ to earn the trust money Grand-Mère and Great-Uncle Horace left me, and _I don't need your help_!"

"But you still insist on moving into…" Mycroft checks the small notebook he keeps with him at all times. "221B Baker St., even though you would only be able to afford staying for less than two months."

"The owner is giving me a special discount."

"I included that in my estimate. You basically have two choices, brother mine. You can stay with me and earn the trust money by helping me on one or two matters. We can accomplish a great deal if we work together."

Sherlock fumes, mentally thinking of every curse word in every language he's familiar with and aiming them at his *&%# of a brother.

Mycroft smirks as if he heard all the words.

Without looking, Sherlock asks, "What is the second choice?"

Mycroft leans back in his chair, while going over the newest group of messages in his phone. "Look for a flatmate. If that happens and the two of you come to a mutual agreement on rent and whatnot, then I will legally give you back your half of the trust. Although, I have to say, I think there is a much more likely chance of you becoming a fan of the Spice Girls than finding someone in London who can tolerate you for more than ten minutes. Myself excluded."

"That's eight minutes longer than I can stand _you_!" Sherlock yells over his shoulder as he leaves the office, slamming the door hard enough to make the same items on Mycroft's desk wobble again.

Mycroft sadly shakes his head. That could have been done with considerably less venom from both sides. Maybe in time, Sherlock will understand that he constantly worries about him and he only has his younger brother's best interests at heart.

Well, when Sherlock's bank account is depleted, then he'll have to see reason.

* * *

PART 2

* * *

 **July 25th 2010**

As Sherlock exits St. Barts, hailing a cab, he smiles to himself.

This seems too good to be true!

Dr. Watson doesn't seem at first glance to be too much of an idiot, and he can usually tell in the first three seconds of meeting a person what levels of idiocy they will have. So far, his deductions indicate tolerable levels, but he'll know for sure tomorrow.

The man doesn't mind the violin, he won't interfere with Sherlock's experiments, and Mrs. Hudson will love him. This. Is. _Perfect!_

However, it just _might_ be cruel of him to take advantage of a battle scared veteran with a psychosomatic limp.

On the other hand, it's either Dr. Watson who seems someone worth talking to, or going back to Mycroft…

…

Well, since he'd rather sleep with _Anderson_ than go back, John Watson it is then!

As the cab heads to his place on Montague Street, he goes over on what stuff to take with him to Baker St and what can be given to his homeless network.

He remembers the last time he spoke to Mycroft and he has to fight back a giggle on the idea that hits him. It only takes a few minutes of work on his phone and… _send!_

[][][][][]

At one of his offices at a top secret location, Mycroft and three of his employees are hard at work. No different than any other day.

His phone pings to say he got a message. He checks it to see that Sherlock has sent him something with an attachment.

To his later regret, he will admit to himself that he was so distracted with the Horizon oil spill, the African Union summit, and needing to talk to this one squire in Reigate, that he opened the attachment without thinking about what Sherlock would send him.

And he should _not_ have left his phone on speaker that day.

 _Aaahh!_

 _Slam it to the left_

 _If you're having a good time_

 _Shake it to the right_

 _If you know that you feel fine_

 _Chicas to the front_

 _Uh Uh go round_

 _Slam it to the left_

 _If you're having a good time_

 _Shake it to the right_

 _If you know that you feel fine_

 _Chicas to the front_

 _Hi Ci Ya_

 _Hold tight!_

Anthea and the two other workers stare in varying degrees of shock and uncertainty.

Mycroft simply stares at his phone with nothing more than one raised eyebrow. Then after deleting the message, he faces Anthea. "Call my bank and John Hector McFarlane, the family lawyer and arrange for my car to be ready for me. I have a few legal things to arrange and will return in four hours."

' _It seems that pigs_ _ **do**_ _fly…_ ' He muses as he calmly walks to the garage. ' _And it also seems I will need to check the latest surveillance report on Sherlock as soon as I get back._ '

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** " _Sherlock_ " is the property of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, which is based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I own a few dvds, the complete published collection of the stories, this plot and some OCs and that's it. " _Spice up Your Life_ " is the property of the Virgin Records.

This story is a standalone, but it also counts as part of the Sherlock AU fanfic series I'm currently working on. Basically me saying Season 3 didn't happen and writing my own spin on the series from " _The Reichenbach Fall_ " onward.

June 13th is Basil Rathbone's birthday. Besides being one of the most loved of Sherlocks, he was also _my_ first love. Not kidding here.

" _Les Enfants du capitaine Grant_ ", English title: " _In Search of the Castaways_ "

Jack May is probably best known for being the voice of Igor in " _Count Duckula_ " and the Milliways headwaiter in the tv version of " _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ ". This man rocked!

In " _The Greek Interpreter_ " Sherlock said his grandmother was sister to Vernet the French artist. As there were three generations of Vernet who were accomplished artists, it's not definite (as far as I know) which one Sir Doyle meant, but I decided to shout out to Horace Vernet.

Also, big hugs to everyone who got _all_ the other Sherlock Holmes shout outs here!


End file.
